On ReligionGrowing up, I was enthusiastically active in a particular Methodist Church. Even as I've grown away from the church, many of the people from that experience have continued to mean a great deal to me. The following is a letter I wrote in response to a note from my former youth minister who, in his short time with our parish became a forever friend and ally. There are background bits missing here, but nevertheless I think it's a pretty clear version of the path I've taken / am taking. Dear Bob, Do I think about those days? Yes, of course I do. I think of Kathy so often, of a life so short, and how perhaps her need to grow up so fast came from some knowledge that her years were limited. Kathy and I were baptized together, went through confirmation together - those are powerful ties. We had true friendship and love for each other, but as we got deeper into adolescence, Kathy lived so much faster than me - our priorities were are no longer the same - and we lost each other. I think of Vicky, and I think of a girl who never gave herself a chance. Her destiny was always tied to boys and neediness, and her searching was always so painfully sexual. I have never understood how a girl could grow up in a church family without anyone ever sitting her down and truly addressing these issues with her. It never came as a surprise that she would have babies at a young age, going through marriages and divorce along the way. And I think of myself, so much more inhibited than the others, but perhaps wearing my talents so much more visibly. I never approached anything content to stay in the background, and my young Christian life was the same. I was so confident in my faith. I read the bible; had a quick working knowledge of the bible. I believed in the church, and listening to popular Christian music of the time, I saw myself going into some kind of ministry. When I was in seventh grade I wanted to be "and actress/singer or a theologian". And of course I think of Bob and Doris. One particular memory of pure happiness was on a trip (to Kings Island?)…I remember being in the backseat of the car, laughing and joking with Kathy - this was the precise moment we started calling you "Bobert"- as one of my least self-conscious and most sincere moments of comfort in those times. Many things about that trip seemed magical, and there was a feeling that something had started. After that you were taken away from us so soon. In the end, I believe, the hierarchy of the church was not seeking spirituality for their children. They wanted them in youth group every Sunday, but only as some sort of obligation, some sense of "if you go every week, you've done your Christian duty and it shows you to be a good young Christian." Sadly (or not, depending on your perspective), when you left Old North, my faith in the church as an institution began to dissipate. I did not lose my faith, but I no longer valued the church as blindly as I had before. I started viewing the church (in a general sense, not just Old North) as a venue where many people try to assert their own popularity, and became cynical toward people who go to church every Sunday but cannot explain the core of their beliefs or those of their chosen parish. I began to view the church as an abused tool that most people use to convince themselves of their own goodness. In college, I began questioning the details of my own faith. I did years of searching, reading other religions, learning about the politics of the church over the last 2000 years, and coming to believe that much of the bible, while not necessarily untrue, was manipulated through the years by the church. I came to resent the Catholic church in particular, as a political organization who has repeatedly used the name of God for their own manipulative purposes. Even more, I could not understand how people can go to church every Sunday and never understand (or at least ask) exactly what it is they believe. I have an intense belief in spirituality, and while going to church can be a powerful ritual, it should be used as a tool to assist the spiritual quest. As I read the teachings of the Buddha, I recognized things that have always seemed true to me, things that may be viewed on the surface as unrelated to Christianity, but which brought me back to a spiritual plane and did not interfere with my core faith in God, as a spiritual (perfection) energy of which we are all a part, and of Jesus as a Man, a real live person who lived his life with enlightenment. It all clicked for me, and I started to finally feel that good spirit inside me again. Last year I spent the year living with my in-laws. Once again living with the Catholic church firsthand, and no doubt influenced by the church/political implications of the sex-abuse scandal, I became very negative toward the church again. When you really live what I call "the quest" [for enlightenment through spiritual truth and good living], the church may be a helpful tool, but more often than not, I think the church fails to encourage "the quest". I truly value the power of the Spirit above the power of the Church. So here I am. My views are unorthodox, perhaps, but they are strong. I see the value of raising children in the church (I learned so much in Sunday School), and we will probably do so when we start our family, if only to give our kids knowledge and a basis from which to start their own spiritual quest. I was going to write that perhaps I never forgave the church for the way they treated you, for the message they were sending the youth when they got rid of you, but that's not entirely true. I have forgiven. But it changed me forever. And in the end, I think I'm probably glad about that. Take care, Bobert. Keep the messages coming - your letters and notes through the years have always been a treasure. Love always,Melissa |